"I'm Billy Trimmer. I am a fisherman—me and my father."
"Do you live near here?" asked Steve eagerly, with visions of a meal before him.
"Nope. We live over yonder," pointing to the cloud of smoke that was now much more plainly in evidence than before.
"Is that a town over there?"
"Yes."
"What is the name of the town?"
"Alpena."
"Oh! And what do you call that little island over yonder?"
"That one with the stones sticking up all over it like a porcupine's back?"
"That describes it. Some of them are sticking into me yet."